Indeed, she was soon so at ease that she leaned toward Newton now and then, bumping him with her shoulder, smiling up at him, sparkling with joy. His smile never faded; it couldn’t. Her happiness filled his own heart with pleasure.
She adroitly waved off the horrified and scandalized reactions the three of them sometimes chose. Though the real-life versions of these lessons would not be so ridiculous, Newton could already see the benefit in them. One was far less intimidated by a situation one had made jest of again and again.
“Now,” Artemis said after a hilarious quarter hour of pretended conversations. “Let us role-play the receiving of compliments and responses to insults.”
“I am not willing to insult her,” Newton said firmly. “Even in jest.”
That earned him looks of approval from the ladies. Charlie, however, pretended to be sick to his stomach, which earned him a not-entirely-playful swat on the arm from Artemis.
“The ‘insults’ will be too ridiculous to be hurtful,” Artemis assured Newton. “Allow me to demonstrate.” She twisted her features into a sour expression and hunched a little, a well-executed portrayal of the sort of ill-tempered dragon one encountered throughout Society. “Why, Miss Ellie,” she said, speaking through her nose, “how brave of you to wear that particular shade of yellow. Not all young ladies have the fortitude to go about looking as though they are suffering from a liver complaint.”
Ellie was not wearing yellow, which made the observation entirely farcical.
Ellie’s brow pulled in thought. “For insults, you said, ‘Retreat, wield my shield, or return fire.’”
“War terminology?” Charlie asked.
“Being a young lady in Society means being constantly under attack,” Artemis said. “Battle tactics suit the situation horrifyingly well.”
That sent Newton’s heart to his toes. He looked to Ellie. She offered a small nod.
“I’m sorry.” He set his hand around hers. “I hope Artemis’s tactics make life in the ton a little easier to endure.”
“I think they will.”
“I am curious what her approaches look like when applied,” Newton said.
Ellie kept their fingers entwined. It felt as natural as breathing.
“Retreat means that the insult is, essentially, ignored. Wielding my shield means that I deflect the insult, usually by changing the topic of conversation.”
Both excellent tactics depending on the situation.
“And return fire isn’t, as I first thought, to insult the person in return,” Ellie said.
“Although sometimes that is too tempting to avoid.” Artemis nodded subtly with her head toward Charlie, eyes pulled wide in theatrical emphasis.
Ellie smiled as she continued her explanation. “To ‘return fire,’ in this instance, means to stand my ground, to speak in my own defense, to make quite clear to all those within earshot that what was said was not acceptable and no one of manners or civility would think otherwise.”
That was bold by anyone’s standards.
“I think returning fire will be the most difficult to do,” Ellie said. “We are taught quite specifically that a young lady does not take a stand in her own defense. Our required response is to sit in silence and endure whatever is flung at us.”
He’d chosen that approach, more or less, with his parents. What must it be like to have that approach required of oneself in all situations?
“What is your response to Antique Artemis’s observation of your fictionally sallow complexion?” Charlie asked.
Ellie stiffened her posture and tipped her chin upward. “And I applaud your bravery in going about with spectacles that clearly do not work as well as they ought.”
They dissolved in a heap of laughter. She had chosen “return fire” and had managed it brilliantly. On and on, they practiced. Newton took up the offering of compliments, leaving the admittedly absurd insults to Charlie and Artemis. Ellie proved herself adept at it all.
“The real test, of course, will be if I can maintain this when next I encounter my parents or my sister.” Though Ellie didn’t seem to have lost her confidence, there was some uncertainty there. “Something about hearing their disapproval, in particular, simply takes the wind out of my sails.”
Artemis laughed. “You have been in this house too long, Ellie. You are beginning to speak in naval terms.”
“If Rose has her say, I will also begin decrying the bland and boring fashion of this ‘dreary island.’”
Newton didn’t know who Rose was, but he liked that Ellie had gained yet another friend.
Friend.
He knew that was how she viewed him, no matter that he’d held her hand for a time. Their “courtship” was a ruse, after all, one he had agreed to. He’d gone along both as an entertainment and a favor. It had all been fun and harmless when they’d first begun.
It felt less so now. He didn’t want to abandon their scheme. He wanted it to be real.
Heaven help him, he wanted it to be real.
Chapter Thirteen
Ellie always felt a little nervous when making her way to a Society function. She had spent far too many years listening to her family list the ways in which she had made a mull of her time amongst the ton to be unaware of the myriad mistakes that awaited her. Leaving for a ball in the company of Artemis and her brother and sister-in-law was an entirely different experience.
Her nervousness leaned more toward anticipation this time. She was excited and hopeful. Rose had taken extra time the evening before, helping Ellie choose a gown and decide on a suitable hairstyle. Artemis’s boldness lessons had continued in preparation for this first outing. Ellie felt prepared to make what was essentially a debut in Society. Never mind that she had attended many events before; she was finally attending one as her true self.
She stepped into Artemis’s bedchamber, where Rose was helping with the final ministrations.
“Have we overlooked anything? Anything we need to change?” Ellie watched the inarguable experts in these things, hopeful that she really was ready.
“You look a vision,” Rose said.
She was never effusive with her praise, but she was also never unkind. Ellie felt certain Rose would not tell her she looked well if she didn’t but, rather, would fix whatever was amiss. Artemis was equally dependable. The two really were remarkable. It was indeed a shame Society did not allow ladies to take up dressmaking and designing. These two could easily be the most sought-after mantua-makers in the entire kingdom.
Artemis was soon ready to leave, and Rose motioned them away before turning back toward the tools she had set out for fixing Artemis’s hair.
“Do you suppose Rose wishes she could go with us to these events?” Ellie asked. “It seems such a shame she did so much work but is not able to participate in the larks that her efforts made possible.”
“I have actually asked her,” Artemis said. “She told me there are times when she wishes she could go. She would like to see all of the ladies in their finery and observe for herself the intricacies and functioning of English fashion. She said she would also enjoy dancing or deep conversations about the matters of the day. But she also said she finds Society quite obnoxious and, therefore, doesn’t feel she’s being denied too much. She much prefers the company of her close friends.”
“Does she not consider you a close friend?”
“I hope that she does.” Artemis’s tone turned uncharacteristically somber. “That is a difficult thing to know, and not merely because Rose is, in many ways, quite unreadable. Our differing circumstances and the fact that she, if we are being quite technical, works for me, puts a barrier between us. I have seen others develop close connections to their abigails and valets. I have some hope that we can develop that as well.”
Ellie did not at all know how to navigate the complexities of human relations, but she
wanted to understand them better.
They were attending the Fancy Ball at the Upper Assembly Rooms that evening. It was a familiar enough social event for her to not be overly worried about what would happen and what was expected. Unfortunately, her family nearly always attended. She likely would not be able to entirely avoid them.
Arriving in the company of the Lancasters was quite a boon to Ellie. People who had hardly noticed her before greeted her with deference. It was unexpected, unfamiliar, and absolutely welcome. When she felt a little intimidated, she called upon Artemis’s tutoring and upon pretending to feel confident even when she did not. She suspected she was doing well. No one seemed to look askance at her.
Within five minutes of each other, the Huntresses arrived and joined their group. Artemis’s brother and his wife had gone to speak with their own set. That was one of the joys of being part of Artemis’s band: freedom Ellie hadn’t ever known before.
“You look breathtaking,” Gillian said. “I suspect Rose had a hand in this transformation.”
Ellie smiled and nodded. Apparently, she was not the first to benefit from the expertise and generosity of that woman.
“Rose and Artemis are the reason I prefer a rounded neckline and will never wear pale pink,” Daria said with a laugh. “Imagine my horror upon realizing that I had, for two Seasons in a row, looked as though I had spent long hours bonnetless under a hot desert sun, thanks to that color choice.”
They all laughed at that, though not so loudly as to be inappropriate. Mother and Lillian would have declared any degree of laughter entirely ill-mannered. How grateful Ellie was to discover they were wrong.
They continued their circuit of the ballroom. Gentlemen stopped them now and then to request the honor of dancing with them. That was also an experience Ellie was unaccustomed to but found she very much liked. Only after having agreed to stand up for three sets did she cross paths with the one gentleman she truly wished to dance with.
Newton, as always, was there in the company of Charlie. Ellie had always dreamed of having a companion like that. She was so pleased that she finally had not merely one but three.
“You look beautiful tonight,” Newton said. “I wish I understood more about fashion so I could offer you a more detailed compliment. I feel all I am able to say is that you are quite stunning.”
The compliment was more effusive than Ellie had ever before received. It might even have been considered a bit too bold by the harshest of sticklers. She, however, loved it.
Newton requested the honor of standing up with her during the Roger de Coverley. She readily and wholeheartedly accepted.
“I do not know what the Lancasters are thinking, allowing Miss Lancaster and her guests to accept invitations from young gentlemen without requiring those invitations be approved by them first.” She cringed at the sound of her mother’s voice coming from directly behind her.
Ellie pasted a smile on her face and turned around. There stood her father, mother, and Lillian. All seemed surprised to discover Ellie was among the group Mother had just spoken ill of. Surely, they knew she was one of Artemis’s guests.
“Ellie,” Mother said. “I did not realize you were there.”
“I recognized your voice,” Ellie said.
Mother would know now that her disparaging remark had been overheard. A moment passed in which she didn’t offer any apology or cover for her unkind words now that she knew who had been their recipient.
A publicly offered insult. Ellie knew her three options.
“Mr. Hughes is well known to Mr. and Mrs. Lancaster,” Ellie said. “He is a regularly invited and welcomed guest in their home. As they have never deemed to cast aspersions on his character, I can only imagine what more approval would be required for him to meet with the approval of anyone else.”
Her family’s surprise only grew. Newton had turned toward them as she’d spoken, likely having heard his name. Charlie and Artemis looked on as well.
“I would never speak ill of Mr. Hughes’s character.” Lillian cast him a look of pleading. She often employed an expression and posture of demure distress when hoping to gain the notice of a gentleman. Did she think that was what Newton hoped for, a lady incapable of doing anything?
Newton showed tremendous forbearance, but Ellie suspected he was reaching the end of his patience with her family. She truly hoped he didn’t number her among them any longer. No matter that their connection began as a pretended one; she did not wish him to think poorly of her.
“And, Mr. Jonquil,” Mother said, turning to Charlie, “we, of course, did not wish to imply that you were an objectionable partner for any young lady. Our Elfrida too often neglects the manners we taught her to have. I assure you, we did teach her.”
In typical fashion, her mother had assuaged her own embarrassment by blaming and belittling Ellie. Ever the scapegoat. Ever the failure.
“Perhaps it would be best if you spent the remainder of the evening near us,” Father said to Ellie. He did not look angry but embarrassed.
Why was it her family was always ashamed of her even when she toed the line with exactness? She was never made to feel that way at the Lancaster home. Newton treated her as though her company were a gift and an honor.
Between his support and Artemis’s boldness lessons, Ellie felt equal to the task of defending herself properly to her parents. “While I appreciate the offer, I will remain in the company of the family who brought me here this evening. The Lancasters have been everything that is gracious and kind, and I will not repay their goodness with the insult of thoughtless abandonment.”
It was the sort of articulately expressed, thinly veiled criticism Artemis excelled at. “Returning fire” with subtle precision.
“I’m certain the Lancasters realize we meant no disrespect.” Mother watched Artemis with a look of worry.
Lillian was just as ill at ease. She had shown more signs of uncertainty in the brief time Ellie and Artemis had been friends than she had all her life before that. It was an odd thing to see. Not satisfying or pleasant. Ellie loved her sister despite their difficulties, but Lillian needed to understand that she could not treat people as poorly as she often did, and neither could she use them as pawns in her intricate game of living chess.
“Do not allow me to keep you,” Ellie said. She hoped it wasn’t too obvious she was doing her best impression of Artemis.
They had rehearsed dismissals so many times. It fell under the category of “retreat.” Artemis had made quite clear that retreat was not to be confused with failure. When utilized strategically, stepping back was its own kind of victory.
Her family nodded and offered unexceptional words of farewell, then went on their way. Ellie could hardly believe it had gone so well. She couldn’t remember the last time a public scolding from her family had not led to much more vicious reprimands. She began to feel she had found her escape.
Charlie offered his arm. Ellie accepted.
“That was rather brilliantly done,” he said. “It seems all of our rehearsal is proving efficacious.”
Ellie both sighed and smiled. The relief she felt grew and grew. She had been nervous at the thought of being firm and unbending with her parents. But doing the thing right, as Artemis often said, made all the difference.
“Perhaps I ought to take a few lessons from Artemis,” Newton said, walking on the opposite side of Charlie. “If I could end my parents’ complaints against me as well as you just did, it would change everything for me.”
“I have not ever seen you interact with your parents,” she said to him. “Do they treat you the way mine treat me?”
Newton shook his head. “They are not truly scolding or berating. They simply disapprove.”
Charlie offered a bit of wisdom in his remarkable imitation of his eccentric brother. “Should we cross paths with them tonight, remember: retreat, wield your shi
eld, or return fire. That is the trick of it.” He slipped his arm from Ellie’s and turned, offering her a deferential bow. “Now, if you will excuse me, I mean to retreat before our Boldness Boss comes over to critique my performance this evening.”
With a jaunty step in a path the exact opposite direction of Artemis, Charlie slipped away.
“It is a shame they don’t value each other’s company,” Ellie said. “They are both such genuinely good people.”
“Good, yes, but both quite stubborn,” Newton said.
Ellie looked up at him. “They might find they could be good friends. We have become just that.”
He took her hand and slipped it through his arm. “Very good friends, indeed.”
His words warmed her. And yet, she felt a twinge of disappointment. They were friends, and she was grateful for that. Her feelings, though, tiptoed beyond friendship. She wasn’t entirely certain what to do with that realization.
They had not resumed their circuit of the room long when she felt Newton tense.
“What has happened?” she asked quietly.
“My parents have arrived.” He motioned subtly toward a sophisticated couple coming in their direction. Had he not identified them as his mother and father, she would likely have been able to guess. There was a resemblance in him to both of them.
“Would it be best if I stepped away?” she asked.
“I would appreciate having you here for moral support,” he said. “But I also do not wish for you to be made uncomfortable. I will defer to whichever you prefer.”
She squared her shoulders. “I will not abandon you.”
A nearly invisible but heartwarming change came over him. He stood a little taller, a little more confidently, and he watched his parents’ approach with less uncertainty.
The Best-Laid Plans Page 10
